Two
by AtomicScribble
Summary: Sequel to Tori. Tori and Erik are now married and must carry out a quiet, normal life. When Raoul keeps persisting, however, that goal becomes harder...FIN!
1. Chapter 1

**Okay.**

**I've officially gone mad. Know how I can tell? I'm starting a much awaited sequel that has high hopes not only when two fics are already going, but when school is starting. Honestly, I think I've officially lost mah marbles.**

**Anyway...yes, this is the sequel to Tori. The title has a lot of meaning in it, and if you can't figure it out during the story, then I'll explain it at the end. Dun ask me it now, or else that would ruin it!**

**I'm hoping that I can attract more readers with this story, as well as get their curiosity going enough to read the original. Yes, you will see a lot more Raoul in this story because this story isn't really about Tori and Erik, it's more about Tori and Raoul. NO, there's no romance between them. I'm not giving away anything beyond that fact. You'll just have to wait and see!**

Disclaimer for the whole story: The only person I own is Tori and some of the minority characters: servants, waiters in restaurants, etc. The rest is 100 percent Gaston Leroux's stuff, while the Movie!Phantom characters belong to Joel Schumacher or whoever. Dun sue me.

oo0o0oo

Tori pattered down the dark hallways, shivering. Bringing her shawl closer to herself, she held the torch up high and looked around.

Although Erik had shown her around these halls numerous times, he had only led her, and her memory wasn't the best, adding to the problem. Turning a corner and seeing only more hallways in front of her with no landmarks, she cried out his name, looking for help.

A second after, a pair of strong, gloved hands caught her around the waist. "Looking for someone?" a silky voice purred in her ear.

Tori giggled, playfully shoving Erik away and turning to face him. He extinguished the torch, leaving them both in an endless black void.

She took in a sudden breath through her teeth, seeing as she had never loved the darkness. As if reading her thoughts, Erik's voice pierced the air again. "Come now, you must learn to light your way in darkness. Just follow the sound of my voice, my love."

Keeping her hands stretched out ahead of her and following in the direction of Erik's singing, Tori found herself walking forward, turning corners: anything from falling into desolate blackness or tripping. She could tell that Erik was doing this to gain trust, showing that he would never hurt her as Raoul once did, most likely by accident. He was, after all, a quite innocent man, and Erik had murdered many times. Why was she with him, then, and not iwth the rich Vicomte?

Accident or not, Raoul had still crossed the line, now dancing on the edge.

Her thoughts drifted from him to her fiance, who was stating that they were almost home. They had decided to get married privately next week, giving them plently of time to prepare. In the wait, they were getting used to more close contact, Tori recovering and getting used to Erik's strong, yet somewhat cool touch. He was holding her more intimately now, hands roaming about. Erik knew her boundaries, though, and respected them, always cooing softly in her ear words of reassurance so as not to frighten her.

As the couple were flooded with light from the cozy cavern, Tori saw that Erik was heading straight to the organ.

She grinned. This is who she was going to spend the rest of her life with.

----------------

**Short, I know. This was pre-written quite some time ago, so I didn't have to do any writing. Kyaa.**

**So what do you think so far? Tell meh: reviews make writers such as me very, very happy.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, thanks to the people that reviewed so far. Glad to see that I have old fans coming back. :D**

oo0o0oo

Married.

What a word.

Married means that you're bound to a person for eternity. Married means you love them. Married means you'll die for them.

That's what Tori was now, and had been for an hour or so. There was no going back, but she didn't care. everything was perfectly alright.

Said woman was snoozing peacefully in the back of a carriage, her head leaned against the window and a certain shade's arm wrapped around her shoulders. A gorgeous wedding ring glittered on her finger, a simpler one on her husband's, proof of their eternal bond.

A bump in the road caused Tori to jump awake, looking about frantically. A glimpse of an orange sunset and Erik's gentle shhing was all it took to calm her back down.

As the carriage came to a stop, she was surprised and stood out to step in front of the main walkway. They were not in front of the Opera Populaire, but a white house, built in a secluded area of town, in the country. Some houses were nearby, but it was quiet save for the twittering of birds. She took in the peaceful setting quietly, a smile spreading on her lips.

Erik stepped out of the carriage and grinned at her as he turned to get their possesions. "You like it? You used to live in the country, so I thought you might like to take a break from city life."

She took her bag from him and gave him a gentle kiss on his visible cheek. "It's beautiful. But," she added, frowning, "How far are we from the Opera?"

He shrugged smoothly. "About an hour or so. I hope you are still singing."

"I hope so too."

Now it was his turn to frown. "What do you mean? Are you telling me that you are never to sing again?"

She answered so suddenly that he gave a start. "No! I'll always sing!" Tori relaxed as the two started to walk to the house, the carriage driving away. "It's just that...I don't know if the managers will pick me to be prima donna anymore, let alone give me a part. They always choose Carlotta."

"Tori." His forceful tone had the same effect on her as it always had, and she trailed off into submissive silence. "Your voice is absolutely perfect. If the managers, dare I call them managers at all, knew any better, they would choose you over that toad they call a singer!"

The way Erik spoke to her made the delicate woman feel cornered, and she gazed at the neatly trimmed shrubs lining the walk quietly. Her husband sighed and spoke more gently this time. "My love, are you listening to me?"

Tori turned to him and nodded, pursing her lips a little as Erik went on, "You have no need to fear what they will think of you. The main role will always be yours, if you wish it."

They reached the front door, and Erik unlocked it with a flourish. He held the door open for her, and she stepped in, gasping at the sight.

oo0o0oo

**Cliffie...yay?**

**-runs from mob of angry reviewers-**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry that I haven't updated for a few weeks. I was a bad girl and slacked off...**

**School made meh do it.**

oo0o0oo

The first thing that Tori registered was that the interior of the house was much larger than the outside of the house; it was as if she could bring an entire herd of elephants into the spacious sitting room and there would still be enough space left over! It was plainly decorated, but pretty nonetheless, with a long black couch and two matching armchairs surrounding a shimmery glass table standing on a maroon rug. The walls were plain white, but plans were already forming in Erik's mind to decorate the walls with his own art someday. A piano sat near the entrance to a narrow hallway leading to the kitchen on their left. Just to the right of the door, a spiral staircase led to what appeared to be an equally spacious upstairs.

Tori started to edge toward the stairs, wanting to get the heavy bags out of her grasp. In fact, what she really wanted to do was sleep: take off her simple white wedding gown, curl up in fluffy white pillows, and simply drift off into oblivion. Before she could place her foot on the bottom step, however, Erik called out, "Would you like to sing a tune or two, sweetheart?"

She turned to see him gazing at her with hope and fondness, one hand gently touching the piano and the other hanging loosely at his side. Sunlight glinted off his white mask and his black coat, giving him a much different appearence than when Tori had seen him. _The light suits him well,_ she mused as she threw up her hands in a helpless manner and smiled lightly.

Blue-green eyes lit up at the promise of hearing her voice, and the shade sat down gracefully at the piano bench. When his wife was in place beside him, he took off his black gloves, laid them near the piano, lifted his fingers, and began to play.

The tune was a calm, cheery one, and Tori felt the same elation she had always felt when singing. Her voice rose and dropped gracefully, and Erik's fingers seemed to not even touch the piano at all. His eyes were closed peacefully, but his lips were pursed in the concentration of remembering the notes. As they went on, the sun set quickly, and the chirping of crickets became audible from beyond the walls. The light in the room changed dramatically; Erik was the first to notice.

"We might as well eat now...something quick is alright." He snapped his fingers, and a girl no older than twelve with platinum blond hair and ocean blue eyes hurried into the room.

"Yes, master and mistress?" she chirped, clasping her hands together.

"Fetch us something to eat. Nothing too fancy, we're extremely tired and wish to sleep as soon as possible." With a quick nod and a swish of her skirt, the girl was gone.

Tori rubbed one emerald eye before wandering around the enourmous room aimlessly. "What are we to do tomorrow? No operas to train for, no ballet rats to run about with..."

She turned to see Erik examining her again, this time in deep thought. "Make music. Take walks, maybe. Explore."

Tori smiled a little: she expected the answer from him. When he wasn't composing, he was exploring his surroundings. Even though he knew the opera house back to front, he still enjoyed poking around and causing mayhem. And when he wasn't causing mayhem or poking around, he was just taking walks. He claimed that it stimulated the brain and the imagination, and Tori found him to be right after a few trial walks through the corridors underground.

Erik started to fiddle around with random tunes he was thinking of, and Tori took this as a signal that the conversation was over. She walked into one of the nearby chairs and sat, leaning her head against the leathery material. She started drifting off and was nearly asleep when a different servant walked in and mumbled, "Dinner is ready."

---------------------------------

After a very quiet dinner, Tori started to get out of her clothes in the room Erik and her shared, while her husband stayed downstairs and played the piano. The same bouncy servant who had prepared dinner was standing by the door, waiting for her to get down to her corset so that she could unlace it for her.

While the girl worked the strings, Tori stared in the mirror over the vanity blankly. What kind of future awaited the newlyweds? Would they be able to sustain children? What if one was stillborn? Or all? She shuddered at the thought; to distract herself, she asked the maid her name.

She grinned. "My name is Corrine."

"Corrine...pretty name. Mine is Tori."

"Equally as pretty. English origin, I'm guessing?"

"My mother was British. My father's French." The corset unhooked, and Tori rubbed her sore hips as she dismissed the maid. Taking the rest of her undergarments off, she took her favorite nightgown out of the suitcase and slipped it on, along with a clean pair of undergarments.

She didn't bother to turn off the lamp; she was already asleep on the bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Good news: Crazy play-performance-parents-are-in-Hawaii-and-Amanda-has-no-access-to-a-compy week is over as of last week! I also have a vacation next week, so I'll try and update a few times.**

**Bad news: R.I.P. my laptop. It had a hard drive malfunction and now it's sitting in a pile of scrap metal somewhere.**

**Aww.**

oo0o0oo

Tori didn't know that another person had shared the bed with her until she woke up and saw the other side of the bed messy and unmade.

Silently she sat up and let out a long, slow breath. Someone had turned the lamp out and put her clothes away; most likely servants.

_Where did all those servants come from?_

Due to the large amount of money Erik had received during his Opera Ghost days, they probably had enough to live very comfortably without working for the rest of their lives…or so Tori thought. She never knew how many times the managers had skimped on paying seeing as the ballet rats were always too busy talking about the Ghost to notice.

And they were pretty damn loud, too.

Tori slipped out of bed and, on impulse, looked at her reflection in the mirror. "Silly girl!" she chided herself quietly when she came around to the fact that Erik no longer watched her behind any mirrors. All she saw was her own messy reflection, her hair sticking up in several different directions and her green eyes caked with sleep.

Slowly she turned her head from her reflection when she smelled breakfast being cooked downstairs. However hungry she was, she suddenly didn't feel like eating. (Not looking as she did now, anyway.) She wanted some alone time, time to write stories in her own messy scrawl or go for a walk, rather than sing with Erik or order the servants around so that they'd have something to do with their time.

Her grumbling stomach told her otherwise, and that's what pushed her to clean herself up and drag herself down the stairs.

oo0o0oo

**That's short.**

**Lyk, really short.**

**So sorry.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, screw the part about my laptop dying; it was actually revived with much more space and a clean slate for me to work on.**

**Yay.**

**This came with bad news: Something that I was working on and planning on publishing this spring (it was a pretty huge document, with many little documents branching off of it) has been killed off along with the harddrive failure. And even this comes with good news: Something in the said story that I wanted to change badly couldn't be altered without changing the rest of the story. So now I can start anew. Double yay.**

**And Christmas is coming...Viva la Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children, Tales of the Abyss, and possibly a Nintendo DS! I probably won't get those things! Yeah!**

oo0o0oo

No sooner had she progressed three steps that she stumbled a little. No one noticed it, but she could barely navigate in dresses. In truth, she would much rather wear boys' clothes; they might restrict your legs, but at least they were harder to trip over.

The strong smell of baking bread and cooking eggs, mixed with the tang of coffee, increased in intensity, and Tori staggered a little once she reached the entrance to the kitchen. Hovering over the stove and long dining table were three different servants: the two she had seen before (Corrine and the one who had told them that dinner was ready last night, whose name was Renee), and another one with brown wavy hair that was tied up in a strict bun that didn't seem to stay in place very well.

She coughed at the smoke. "Is something burning?"

Corrine turned and shook her head, smiling nervously. "No, no, nothing's...burning..." She tried without success to hide the blackened bread from Tori.

The singer's green eyes darted to the stove, and she gasped, rushing over. "You lie, Corrine! See here, it's smoking!"

The servant with the thick bun nodded, shoving Corrine over. "Renee was starting to make bread, but then Corrine-"

"I don't want to hear it."

All four girls turned to see Erik, standing in the doorway with a stern, hardened expression on his features, looking unusually regal in a full suit, rather than his normal casual attire. "Madamoiselles Corrine, Renee, and Valerie, throw out the bad bread and simply give us the rest of the food."

Renee was opening her mouth to say something, but Corrine clamped a sturdy hand against her mouth. "Of course! We'll get to it right away! You just...wait in the next room!"

The Phantom and his bride were easily ushered out by the three girls, all of them mumbling about "how they should enjoy the beautiful morning".

"But...it's raining out...," Renee said slowly in unison with Tori as the door closed quickly, the twitters of the servants heard clearly through the wood.

----------------------------

"Married, you say?"

"Yes...married...," Tori said, brushing a loose strand of black hair behind her ear.

"Since when?"

"Just yesterday."

Meg nodded and practiced her balancing, smiling. "I hope you married a rich man! Always good to have extra money!"

Tori laughed, giving the girl a playful shove as she sat on the floor, lacing up her black ballet slippers. "What, so you could have more gifts on Christmas Day?"

The high-pitched giggles of the two girls called upon the attention of the rest of the ballet girls, and they all flocked over to see what the ruckus was about. Once Meg had explained, the room was filled with gossip and eager questions, most of them wanting to know why Tori had decided to stay in the Opera House's main cast.

"Are you trying out for lead roles still?"

"What is your new husband like?"

"Are you still getting voice lessons?"

To all of them, Tori had very blunt answers, not wanting to give much away. If she had said she had married the Opera Ghost, who was actually a real man who had a disfigurement on his right side and who sat in the dark writing music all day, her reputation would be torn apart and she would become the back end of most of the jokes. Everyone was usually on the wrong side of things, but it was the person who had done the strangest thing who got most of the relentless teasing and who was the subject of the gossip filtering around.

Soon the topic switched to exactly what Tori was fearing: where the infamous Ghost had gone.

"I haven't seen him in a rather long time," said a small, redheaded girl that had joined only a month or two ago, flipping her vibrant hair before starting to tie it up in a bun.

Her friends started to say quickly that she hadn't even seen him at all, only heard, but they were distracted by the loud shutting of the door.

Tori had left early to start exercises, and had dragged Meg along with her.


	6. Chapter 6

**WOW, I haven't updated this in a while. It's mostly been rotting away. D:**

oo0o0oo

"Tori? Tori! What's the matter?"

Tori turned around quickly to face Meg, her face flushed from anger and from running so far. "Meg!" she hissed. "They were starting to suspect something! I can't let that happen!"

Meg blinked and backed up a little bit, surprised at her outburst. "But that was no reason to leave so abruptly. You're not-"

"I know, I know! I simply..." She covered her face with her hands, taking in a deep breath before answering shakily. "...needed to get out of there."

There was a long silence, during which Meg stared at Tori in confusion. Was she leaving because the ballet rats were starting to make connections that they shouldn't, or did she leave because it was actually true? Or both? Either way, the pieces didn't quite fit in her mind as neatly as they should. Sure, the Opera Ghost was gone and Tori was married around the same time, but that was no reason to jump to conclusions.

Was it?

Tori turned and kept up her brisk pace towards the stage.

Meg sighed in exasperation, chasing after her for more answers. "Tori! Tori, come back, please!"

---------------------

The entire rehearsal was spent in near silence, save for the singing, orchestra, and fast-paced shuffle of feet across the wood of the stage floor. Tori was in a generally sour mood for reasons the ballet rats couldn't place, but some of them started to make snide comments on her based on the evidence they had. All the while she ignored their whispers and didn't make eye contact with their hungry eyes, but instead focused on her dancing and singing, which was slowly starting to decline out of pure stress.

When the rehearsal ended, she met up with four people to discuss her situation and her mood.

The first two were the managers.

"So we heard you were married recently, Madamoiselle Tori," Firmin gushed, smiling in a friendly way that somehow came across as hostile to Tori.

"Yes, sirs. What of it?"

Andre shifted through some papers, no doubt her application here, before setting them down and nodding cheerfully. "Yes, well...do you wish to continue here or do you wish to find work somewhere else? You're one of our prized singers, you know."

She nodded slowly. "Indeed, I wish to stay."

"How far do you live?"

"Not too far away to be a problem, but a considerable distance nonetheless."

"Perfect!"

The next was with Madame Giry. She was curious as to what had become of the ghost after Tori had gotten married, and she had her ways of finding out everything about what was between her and him.

"Tori."

She stopped mid-step to the changing rooms, turning to face her elder. "Yes, Madame?"

The ballet mistress tapped her cane nervously. "I would like to know what has become of Erik. You and him..." She bent down close to Tori, whispering so that the passing cast members would not overhear and spread gossip about them.

"Is he your new spouse, Tori?"

She blinked quickly, whispering her answer as well. "Yes. Just the other day."

Madame Giry leaned back and smiled comfortingly. "Well done. Good luck to your new life."

The last was Raoul, a person she had begged and pleaded God that morning that she would not see that day, or for a long, long time.

She was about to leave the Opera House for the carriage outside when he caught up with her.

"Tori, good day to you!"

Tori exhaled slowly. "Yes, good day to you too, Raoul," she said quietly and bitterly.

"What's this? Married, I hear?" He smiled painfully. "Good luck with him!"

She nodded slowly; he was being unusually acceptive of her descision, despite his claim over the last few months that he really did love her. He was sweet, yes, and had indeed slipped once, but she didn't want him to bother her anymore, politely or not. "Thank you, Raoul. I'll be sure."

She flagged down a taxi, got into it, and left before Raoul had the chance to ask his question.

_Damn...I must ask her tomorrow, then..._


	7. Chapter 7

**I HAVE AN IDEA FOR AN AWESOME FANFIC U GUYZ D:**

**I put it up on my Coming Soon page. Take a look.**

oo0o0oo

By the time Tori arrived back at her new home, night had fallen and the only sound was the merry chirping of crickets. She walked down the path up to the front door, shivering a little in the sudden chill that wracked her body.

"I should buy a new coat," she mumbled to herself, bringing the coat in question more tightly around her as she unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Silence was the only sound in the house, which scared Tori a bit. Normally she was used to the sound of writing on paper, or notes being tried out, or even whole songs being written and played out. Everything was dark save for a few candles that were burning out, and no one was in immediate sight.

Tori raised an eyebrow. "Erik?" she called cautiously.

No answer.

Sighing, she went inside regardless, walking upstairs and putting her coat away quickly before running back downstairs to relight candles, causing the whole house to be aglow. She sat by the piano and ran her fingers along the keys. It was time to wait.

-----------------

Not too long after Tori had seated herself, the door flew open again, and Renee stumbled in, her arms laden with packages.

"Where do you want me to put these, sir?" she called out over her shoulder into the night.

A smooth baritone answered her calls. "In the sitting room, Renee. Go quickly."

As soon as Renee had scuttled past and greeted Tori, Erik came in and closed the door behind him. It was only when everything was put away and he was walking back to the main room to go upstairs that he noticed her.

"Good evening, my dear. Have you been waiting long?"

His eyes seemed to glow in the candles' light. Tori shifted and put a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"Well, no."

"How was practice?"

To the untrained ears, that seemed to e the only thing that interested him: her career. However, Tori knew better, and she responded cheerfully:

"It went well."

A telltale element kept Erik from accepting the answer easily. He stared at her curiously.

"I know that's not the case," he said slowly, lifting his chin and looking down at Tori.

She shifted again, this time uncomfortable under his gaze. "Well..."

And she told him everything that had happened that day: about the ballet rats nearly finding out who she really was married to, the interview with the managers about her current situation, and Raoul.

The musician hissed, his eyes narrowing. "That boy...he simply won't let you go, will he?"

"Well, he seemed innocent enough when he talked to me. In fact, I think he would like to befriend me..."

"Don't trust your first instinct on him. I know he wants to steal you away." Before Tori could counter, Erik had swished up the stairs, his footsteps heavy on the wood.

Her lips pursed. She thought he had outgrown this phase of protectively holding her close to him, swearing to God above that she was his and no one elses. If she was now married, did he not have to worry anymore? Or was he paranoid that she would leave him for someone else, namely Raoul, excusing what tension there was between the dandy and the singer?

She rose and walked into the kitchen, where the three servants were currently arguing over what they should cook after the burning bread situation of that morning. Tori immersed herself in their bickering, temporarily forgetting Erik's posessiveness. It was a problem for another time and place.


	8. Chapter 8

**Break now. Expect uber updates!**

**And sorry if Raoul doesn't have blue eyes. My PotO movie information is rusty right now. Also, lunch was called dinner back then and dinner was supper, so. Heads-up.**

oo0o0oo

The next day seemed to move by slowly. Meg didn't talk to her all day after her nervous outburst, and the ballet rats did nothing but stare at Tori suspiciously as she numbly went through all of the movements of the dances, silently making her way up and down the stage and only singing when she absolutely had to.

Erik didn't leave the house at all: he was there when she left for the Opera House and he was there when he returned home. What he was doing was unknown to Tori, as he didn't say a word about it.

When practice was over, the last thing Tori wanted to do was talk to someone. All she wanted to do was go home, eat dinner, lie down, and sleep. She didn't want to have a conversation or express her thoughts, especially not to-

"Tori!"

She froze, shoulders starting to hunch despite her training to stand up straight and tall at all times. "What, Raoul?" she asked, trying as she might to keep her voice cheery.

"I wanted to ask you something," he replied as he caught up to her, putting a friendly hand on her shoulder. Tori ignored the contact as best she could.

"Tell me then," she said, turning towards him.

Something looked very uncertain in his blue eyes...almost thoughtful, as if he didn't expect to get this far in the conversation before Tori would have shaken him off.

"I know you are married..."

"Mm-hmm." Tori started to inch away slowly.

"But I would like to get to know you better..."

"Go on." She was a little closer to the door, and he hadn't noticed yet. Perfect.

"So on Saturday..."

Little more. Almost there...

"Would you like to go somewhere for dinner?"

No! Tori grit her teeth silently. If there was some way to avoid him entirely, it would be wonderful, and she certainly wouldn't hesitate to hear it. Unfortunately, seeing as he was the patron and main income of money for the Opera House, he wouldn't be shaken very easily.

But dinner?

"I'll pay," Raoul offered lamely, seeming to shrink in on himself slightly. Perhaps Tori was imagining things.

Perhaps not.

"I'll think about it."

------------------------------------

Erik was innocently playing piano when Tori got home: exactly the same song as when she had left.

He didn't acknowledge her as she walked up the stairs slowly, exhausted with the toll of the dance practice.

"Tori?" she heard him ask quietly.

Tori paused, but eventually kept walking. She was much too tired to acknowledge him right now.

"Tori!"

She kept walking. Why was she not saying anything about her tiredness, even she didn't know. Her breathing became deeper as her body started to become more tired.

A hand caught her arm firmly. Turning, she found Erik looking somewhat desperate. Somewhat only because there was an air of suspicion around him, and his eyes were alight with curiosity.

"Whatever's the matter? You aren't answering to me."

"I..." Tori waved him off. "I'm just tired, Erik. I'll talk to you in the morning."

"Is...is everything all right at the Opera?"

"Yes, fine. Please, I just want to lie down."

"Did _he_ say anything to you?"

"...he?"

Erik's fists clenched from where he stood, still in the middle of the stairs where he had stopped Tori. "You know who I meant."

Ohhhhhh. Suddenly, in the midst of her getting his gist, her heart skipped a beat.

She hadn't brought him into the picture when "thinking about it".


	9. Chapter 9

**Meh. This chapter kinda sucks. 'Scuse meh for it.**

oo0o0oo

"You what?!"

Tori waved her hands in the air, trying to make her point to Erik, who stood by the piano fumingly the next morning. "I'm aware that you're thinking the same thing that I am, but I-"

Erik snorted and crossed his arms. "But what? You thought it would be 'nice'?"

She dropped her hands in defeat. "I don't know him, Erik. There must be some way to clean up bad blood between Raoul and I."

"What bad blood?" But before Tori could answer to his sarcasm, Erik turned to face the window opposite of where she stood near the door. "Go."

And go Tori did.

All during the carriage ride into the city, Tori sat in silence, mulling over her argument with Erik. Why had she bothered to tell him and cause tension between them so early in their marriage? Worse still, what would have happened if she didn't tell him? Would he have found out? Erik had always had an eerie way of knowing everything and anything that happened, especially with Tori, but that was during their days in the Opera House. Now that they had moved out, living a little over an hour away from their old home, did he have the same sort of knowing that he used to? There was the cemetery, where he had found her regardless...

Finally the carriage shuddered to a stop in front of the Opera. Tori thanked the driver as he helped her step out, and entered, quickly losing herself in the hustle and bustle before practice.

Raoul had said that he would take her to dinner that day, during the small slot of time the actors were alloted for a meal at noon. By then, Tori thought bitterly as she dressed herself, she would have fainted from exhaustion. Everyone who had even stepped in for a performance knew how hectic and uptight things became before opening night, and sometimes the dinner break was nonexistant.

All that morning Tori strutted, leapt, and sung, nonstop. Same songs, repeated for clarity. Same dance routines, brushing away cobwebs. The screaming of Carlotta, the annoyed attitude of the conductor...it was all there. Despite Tori being thankful for the escape, it didn't help her problem any further, only took her mind off of it and put her attention atop a new one as the minutes, then hours, ticked by.

Thankfully, the dinner break came quickly, and Tori stumbled towards the dressing room, wanting some quiet time, which she knew she wouldn't get. The ballet rats were gossiping, giggly and quick as always in their speech. She didn't feel welcome in the flirty and fast-paced atmosphere, alienated from talk of men and routines and dancer life.

She wasn't one of them anymore, she realized sadly. She was commited.

"Did you hear about how many things they found in the cellars?" she overheard one dancer chirp.

"Yes! So many expensive and exotic things...I only wish I had the money!" another replied cheerily.

"Don't be silly, you two! What is down in that musky old hellhole that you could possibly want?!" an older singer chided.

Tori had found something down there, a something that was too protective, and she was attached to that something for the rest of her days. She had wanted it then.

Now she was just being spiteful. She shook her head and rubbed her eyes. Focus, her mind whispered. Focus.

------------------------------------------

"Have you considered anything other than being an actress?"

Tori sipped her coffee quietly. This escape wasn't looking too inviting, either. She avoided Raoul's intense and interested gaze.

"No," she said. "I quite like the Opera. It's my home." She leaned forward and rebounded the question right back at him. "What about you? What do you do for work?"

(Okay, excuse my crappy knowledge here.)

He waved his hand in the air. "My family has enough money to sustain ourselves. I won't need to take the reins for quite a long time."

Tori stared down at her shoes. She wished she could live like that. "I see."

"What do you do in your spare time?"

"I...practice dancing. Singing. Think. Write, if I am feeling creative."

"Ah." Raoul leaned back in his chair, smiling pleasantly. "What manner of writing?"

"Whatever catches my eye, I suppose."

And it went on like that for a long time. Raoul attempted small talk, which Tori returned. He did indeed have a very welcome personality, knowing how to discuss even the most cryptic of topics with someone. He could make you feel very welcome and as if you could tell him anything and he would not turn you away. To her surprise, Tori found herself opening up to him, telling him of the happier days of her childhood, the life of a dancer, singing techniques, and under what different singing professors she had been under (omitting the part about Erik). He did not poke at the subject of who her new spouse was, although she guessed that he probably knew. The time was not uncomfortable, as Tori had imagined, but instead rather pleasant.

Finally Tori and Raoul returned to the Opera house, still talking. Tori wished not to dwell on how to explain or talk to Erik once she got home. There would be ample time to figure that out on the way home.

All during the afternoon, Tori found herself reconnecting with her old life, in spite of all the stress surrounding her and some of the heckling of the ballet rats for her occasional clumsiness.

This was her home.


	10. Chapter 10

**-cough- Stupid cold.**

oo0o0oo

Of course, she had another home too, a newer one, but she didn't want to ruin it for herself.

While getting back into her dress, Tori thought on how she was going to go about this. Would she even talk about it to Erik? Would she let the topic drop, or hang in the air between them? No...that was too much of a risk. Erik wasn't the type to let things drop like that; not easily, anyhow. She needed to talk about dinner with Raoul or her new marriage was done for.

She hurried to the carriage outside, noting that the curtains were drawn. Strange. She had asked that they remain open so that she could stare out the window at the sights and judge where she was, therefore keeping better track of time that way. The interior was dark when there wasn't sunlight filtering through, so dark that Tori could barely see her hand in front of her, which unnerved her.

She opened the door quickly without really looking in and sat down.

"Why are the curtains drawn?" she asked, aiming the question at the carriage driver but not really looking at him or speaking up enough for him to hear.

"Because I would like it that way."

Tori started as she looked up from where she had sat, squinting in the darkness. She recognized that voice- it was Erik, wasn't it?

In the darkness, she could hear Erik lean forward to address her better. "Would you rather I opened the windows? Let people see me? Reveal my identity so that you may forever be known as the dancer who married the Opera Ghost?"

"No, of course not!" Tori held out a hand, unexpectedly touching Erik's chest. She withdrew, wincing. "It's just hard to see, that's all."

Erik leaned back. His head leaned against the wall of the carriage with a soft _thunk_. He sighed, "You've lived in light for so long, child. Where have your night eyes gone?"

"I've never had night eyes."

A shifting noise sounded from the cushion of the seat. "I haven't taught you anything?"

Tori stayed silent. He had verbally cornered her; she absolutely hated it when he did that to her.

"Answer me."

The carriage started to rattle away. Tori swayed with the shaking of the wheels on the stone streets, nearly hitting her head on the window and then Erik. "You've taught me plenty. Singing, confidence...you haven't taught me the ways of darkness."

Erik chuckled coldly. "And I would rather you stay untainted. I do admit, it's terribly dull having a wife who's a light dweller."

Tori's voice lowered to a low hiss. "You're jesting."

"Always, dear, always."

This wasn't looking too good. Tori rubbed between her eyes with her index and thumb nervously; where was her plan B?

"Erik..."

He sighed again. "What's done is done, I suppose."

"Are you still angry with me?"

Erik reached out a hand and grabbed Tori's roughly, kneading the back of her hand with his thumbs in little circles. "If I was associating with another female, wouldn't you be as well?"

Cornered. Why was he toying with her?

"I don't jump to conclusions. You know that better than anyone."

They fell into a bitter silence, Erik's hand still clutching hers, as if she might float away from him. After a while the stones gave way to a dirt road, and Tori peeked out of the window silently. Erik blinked at the light and withdrew his hand, using it to wave dismissively at the window.

"Close it. The light hurts my eyes."

**-------------------------------**

The house seemed even emptier when they finally arrived. The sun had almost totally set, the sky a dusky purple, cloudless save for a few dark puffs. The door closed loudly, the hollow sound echoing around the empty halls.

Erik gave Tori a soft kiss. "Dinner is already prepared. I sent the servants to bed, so we have the house to ourselves."

He started to head up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Tori called after him.

"Bed, of course." He turned to regard her, eyebrow quirked. "Do you think I'll jump out of the window and fly off to some faraway and exotic land?" Lips spreading in a smug smirk, he laughed. "Now we see eye to eye, don't we?"

She rolled her eyes, annoyed. "Wait for me, please."


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry for the late update. Here you go.**

oo0o0oo

Tori longed for food, something to taste, chew, and swallow, but her stomach writhed at the thought of food sitting in it. She craved something to satisfy her tongue's want for some taste, any taste, but her appetite just wasn't there: her body screamed only for rest. Typical- after running and jumping and singing her lungs out every day, she had no chance to interact with Erik because of her tiredness.

She quickly undressed and flopped into bed, head sinking onto the pillow gratefully as she pulled the covers up to her chin. Paying no mind to Erik, who was sitting on the space opposite her, staring at the window thoughtfully, she started to drift off. Tori knew that it would do no good to wait his bad mood off instead of talking, but the day's rehearsal had worked her to her breaking point. Her breaths came in heavily, her eyes feeling like they had been forcefully peeled open and held open by some invisible being. Erik would simply have to wait.

The man in question made a move to try and keep her awake for a few minutes in order to even have some conversation with her, but she looked to be asleep. Sighing, he lied down next to her and placed his hands behind his head. The ceiling he stared intensely at offered no words of consolation for his discomfort.

They had barely been married a week and it now seemed that everything was falling apart already. Before, they had seemed so happy, so content to just do as they pleased and then visit each other at night. It had been easier when he lived underneath the building where Tori worked, able to hear her practice along with the other performers, but now, living an hour's carriage drive away, he felt detached. Should he go back?

No...that place had been a living hell for him, constantly under fire through discreet ballerina's rumors and the doubtfulness of the managers. The money extortion had been no problem, seeing as he was doing them a favor by leaving them alone (for a small price, of course), but it was really the reactions, stares, gasps that he had gotten sick of. It was a happy prospect back then, marrying his student and going someplace far, far, far from where he had spent most of his life, to start over fresh, but now that he had it he had no idea what to do with it.

Both truly fell asleep without the other knowing: one lost in her exhaustion, the other thoughts of his present.

---------------------------------

"We're moving back."

Tori looked up from her tea in curiosity. Had she heard Erik wrong?

It was a Sunday, the only day Tori did not have to work at the Opera House. She planned to take advantage of the day in its fullest, craving a pure rest far from anything regarding dancing or making music.

"What?" she asked, eyes wide.

"We're moving back," Erik repeated, folding his arms and looking down at her with a stern air that Tori could only recall him using when he was still teaching her. His eyes glittered with hope, a feeling that clashed against the stern line of his lips.

"Back? Where?"

"The Opera. Good Lord, Tori, where else would we go back to?"

Tori looked back into her tea. The trembling liquid reflected her confusion at this sudden descision perfectly, and she shot a glare at her reflection. The woman in the tea glared right back. "I don't understand, Erik. I thought-"

"I thought too." He reached under her chin and forced her face up to meet his gaze. "I thought we were doing fine, Tori. I think we'd be much happier if we went back to the life we once had."

She swiped meekly at his hand, causing it to withdraw slowly. "I don't think dwelling in the past will change anything."

Erik threw up his hands, starting to pace around the room. _He always went into this little mode when he has something important to say,_ Tori thought despite herself. "Think, child, think!" he ranted, "We were much happier in our element, weren't we? I could always hear you perform when I pleased, and you seemed to enjoy visiting me in my house by the lake, am I right? This house is so confined compared to where we both used to live!" He suddenly whirled on her, the sternness replaced with childish excitement. "If I had my way, we would be able to go back to the days when you only knew me by my voice!"

Tori rose from her seat, wringing her hands. "Erik, Erik, Erik! Listen to yourself! This is what you've wanted!"

Deliberate steps marked Erik's way to Tori's side. She watched him anxiously, ears straining to hear his next move. "Imagine!" he whispered, face inches from hers, breath hot and caressing in the cool morning chill, "We could have it our way again. No more dreaming, Tori. You're right, I do have what I want." He straightened, hands limply at his sides. "I want what I gave up back."

"I don't think it works that way."

"In my world, it does."


	12. Chapter 12

The ceiling dripped a bit in the corners, the water landing with a soft _plink _on the matching stone floor, drop by drop. The lake lapped idly on the shore of the empty cavern.

Erik looked around his old home quietly. It was devoid of all of his favorite things that he had collected over the years- the enormous organ, the sheets of music strewn about, the candles, the curtains...

But the boat was still there, and had been waiting where it always had been for years. It had looked welcoming, sitting there tethered to its little dock, and Erik took it and set out straight for home.

He was surprised to see that all the traps and levers and switches were all intact and working. Without someone working them constantly and with no one to see or operate them any more, would they simply disappear into nothingness or stay loyally, rusting as they eagerly awaited the arrival of their master? Luckily, they had not gone anywhere, and Erik ran his hands over the familiar buttons fondly, even pressing a few to see if they worked. They did.

He had not brought any of his possesions or Tori with him...well, not the former anyway. Erik had ridden with Tori to the Opera, and she practiced five or six floors above where he now stood. Faintly the sounds of singing and dancing feet wafted down into the decrepit, rocky cellar and reverberated around the bare walls. Before they would've been absorbed by the sheer amount of _things_, the amount of human possesions strewn about in the tiny house on the lake, and Erik was even more reminded of how empty the cavern now was without him or her to populate it.

Did he want it back?

He avoided the question, turning straight around and heading back to the boat. Just as silently he sailed back to the dock and headed towards one of his secret passages. He would distract himself for as long as he could with the hustle and bustle of practice.

-------------------------

Tori was snapped out of her attention to the managers' usual pep talk for the opening night by clinking in the rafters. Normally she would've shaken it off and turned back to where she was originally facing, seeing as it was most likely the stage hands fiddling with the ropes and curtains, but all of them were in her view to her left if she looked straight up, and this sound was coming from the front.

She squinted up into the darkness, searching for a figure of some sort. None presented itself, and she turned back to the front of the crowd. What was she expecting? Erik was either downstairs or waiting in the carriage. It was possible that he was exploring his usual hideouts, but...

There was more clinking, and more heads looked upwards than just Tori's. The staff became distracted too, and before long everyone was looking up. The darkness was silent and empty to their expectant eyes. Even the stagehands had looked over, a few of them taking one or two tentative steps toward the noise before stopping, unable to drag themselves forward more.

Firmin cleared his throat, prompting Andre to nudge Madame Giry. She had known what (or, rather, who) Tori was looking for, and she was just as curious to see if that something would show up. Briefly she questioned if it was childish nonsense to think the ghost was still around, because as soon as Tori had gotten married he had gone away, and even when she would come back for practice he wouldn't follow her.

Her attention came center stage again and she banged her cane loudly on the floor to divert everyone's attention from the rafters. Tori hesitated before looking down, thoughts quietly working out what could be happening as half of her made an effort to listen to the speech.

As soon as everyone was dismissed, she strayed from the mass of giggling girls to the back hallways, where the population went from twenty or thirty to ten to five and finally to no one. It was always musty and quiet beyond the workrooms after a practice, seeing as it only served as a storage place for old props, some of them broken beyond repair and waiting to be sold in auctions that felt like they would never come around. Statues leered out at her as Tori strode purposefully to a stack of crates that lied innocently in the back corner. Cobwebs shone in what little light was streaming through high windows in the wall.

She squeezed carefully between two stacks, sighing as dust rubbed off onto her dress. She brushed it off and stared at the wall, feeling around for a loose spot. In one section the wood paneling gave way. She stumbled into a dark and even more dusty passage and tried to recall how to get down to the house by the lake.

-------------------------

Erik followed behind his wife silently. He was strangely curious to see how far her memory could take her before she gave up and either tried to go back the way she came or call out for him, and also slightly amused at her want to find him again. Had she not listened to his instructions to wait outside for a carriage, and if there wasn't one out in front of the street that she recognized, to wait for one? Did she want to see Erik's old home as well?

She hit what must have been the fourth dead end in a row. "Ugh!" she huffed, leaning against the wall. "Where is he?!"

"Right here."

She turned with a jump, breath catching in her throat with a small squeak. To and fro Tori's head snapped back and forth, peering into the darkness of the corridor she stood at the end in for the telltale figure of the ghost.

Now tiring of watching her guess at him, he stepped forward. Her face relaxed in an expression of recognition as she stared up at him. Black bangs fell into her eyes, head tilting and mouth contorting into a frown. "Were you in the rafters during practice today?" she demanded.

Erik shrugged. "I wanted to see how the Opera House was doing without my influence."

"Just fine. I'm still employed, aren't I?"

He waved a hand. "Again, I was curious. And yes," he added as she opened her mouth for another question, "I have visited my old home as I have promised."

Tori covered her eyes with her hand, fingers rubbing gently against the closed eyelids, smudging the heavy stage makeup she still wore. "And are we moving back?"

Erik hesitated. There was that question again, the question that he had purposely avoided before. His lips pursed as he stared Tori in the eye, strong gazes never wavering from either.

And then he made his decision.

"Yes."


	13. Chapter 13

Tori crossed her arms and gazed at her old bedroom from back when she lived there. They both had to find a way to fit their bed inside the mini-cavern, but she was sure they would find a way...somehow. The entrance was smaller than what was actually inside, so who knew?

She bit her lip, gnawing on the soft pink flesh thoughtfully. What were they going to do now? They just couldn't go back to their normal lives, or even their lives from before they moved from the Opera House. People would suspect something if Tori suddenly and magically arrived to practices a good hour or two from when she was expected. She _could_ just wait it out downstairs, but that would be terribly boring as well. What would she do? Just what she usually did when spending nights in with Erik?

He had exactly what he wanted- his old home, his old schedule, his old life. Tori happened to have to be pulled along into the mix, helpless to protest otherwise.

She turned on her heel and exited the room, standing outside the entrance to it. Just a few feet away was Erik, bags still unpacked, playing on the piano he had had transported here contentedly. It wasn't his old organ, but he had claimed to have that one arrive shortly after they had resettled so everything would be perfect. The loud sound reverberated off the walls easily and hit Tori's ears- hard.

It seemed that neither had gotten used to where they now lived.

"Erik!"

He stopped and turned, tilting his head as he gazed smugly at her. "Well? Are you happy?"

Tori hesitated. The wrong answer would have them back up on their feet, moving back to the house they owned before. Even worse, it could break his heart. "...yes."

She felt terrible lying about it, but the answer had its desired effect. Erik nodded, a teensy, self-satisfied grin creeping onto his face. It reminded Tori of a rather fat cat lying in the sun, relaxing after a large meal.

"Splendid," he replied, turning back to the piano and punching out a few notes. "We will be staying here for good."

"For good?! I-"

"For good, my dear!" He glanced over his shoulder at her, not stopping his playing. "I'm happier here."

Tori swallowed, looking back down at the ground. "I didn't expect that." Indeed she didn't; she thought it would only be a short time, until Erik got fed up with the house on the lake and switched back to their other house. But once he made up his mind, that was that. It had taken her a month or two, but she quickly figured that out for herself.

-----------------------------

During a break in the practice, Raoul approached Tori once again. She still didn't want to talk to him, but after their conversation at dinner she felt less tense whenever he was in the room.

"Tori?" He furrowed his eyebrows, a curious expression creeping over his features. "I went down to some of the cellars to take some time to myself..."

Tori's eyes widened slightly, but Raoul didn't seem to notice. How far had he gone?

"...and I heard a piano playing."

"You must be hearing things." Tori shook her head wildly. "The Phantom is gone, remember? He's been gone for a few weeks."

Raoul, determined to prove his point, looked her straight in the eye and spread his hands out. "No, I assure you! I heard a piano playing in the cellars of the opera again!" His voice was a low hiss, as not to attract attention from the rumor-hungry cast and crew, but some of them turned their heads anyway. A nearby dancer whispered into the ear of her friend, who grinned and scuttled off to tell her other comrads.

Tori became as defiant as him and stood on her tiptoes, face coming very close to Raoul's. "And I assure you, he is gone!" she hissed back

Taken aback, Raoul raised an eyebrow. He put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed, lowering her back down to the ground. "Don't be defensive, Tori..."

"I'm not being defensive!" she insisted.

"You are."

Tori's features started to relax into an expression of shock at herself. Had she been too obvious? Her eyes darted over Raoul's shoulder. A group of girls were standing some distance away, talking to each other, some of them looking at Raoul and Tori in disgust.

Great. Now they knew.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to..."

Raoul shook his head and straightened to his full height. "It's not a problem. Not at all."

A silence settled carefully in the space between them. Tori looked up, scanning the rafters absentmindedly. She gave a small jump when she saw an almost humanoid shape in the shadows. It appeared to be looking down at them in silent anticipation.

"Tori..."

Tori's head snapped back down to meet Raoul's gaze, which was again full of curiosity. "Y-yes?"

"That night...a month ago..."

_Don Juan Triumphant_. Erik's opera, that's what he was referring to. Tori started to nibble on her nails slightly, nervous as all get out now. "Yes, I remember...the Phantom's opera, correct?"

"Yes." Raoul nodded, face becoming serious at what he was about to ask her. "You...wanted to save the Phantom..."

Tori's heart started to thump in her chest, so loud that she thought everyone could hear it. She swallowed past the blood beating in her ears and nodded, prompting Raoul to continue.

"And then when you became married...he disappeared..."

In the corner of her vision, Tori could see the shape in the shadows above her turn quickly and leave, melting into darkness. Her heart beat faster.

_Oh, no..._

"Are you...married to the Phantom?"


	14. Chapter 14

"Are you...married to the Phantom?"

Tori paled, if that was even possible. How did he know? More importantly, what would he do if she answered him truthfully? Would he call in soldiers to hunt down Erik, convinced that he was threatening her safety? That she was being forced to create a relationship with the ghost? She swallowed, her heart in her throat now, and lied.

"No...what makes you ask?"

Raoul gazed her straight in the eye, reading the fear written on her face all too easily. "You lie, Tori."

"I-I...I'm not lying!" she protested weakly, hands clenching and unclenching at her sides.

He put a protective hand on her shoulder, patting it comfortingly. The gesture, however, made Tori jump a little, and she shyed from his touch. His brows were furrowed in genuine curiosity, wanting to know just what was making Tori so nervous all of a sudden. "Please, Tori. You're frightened. Tell me the truth."

"But I did!"

He glanced at her sideways, the kindness fading, replaced by a stern stare, like a teacher reprimanding an imcompetent student. Tori could find no easy way out of this conversation, as far as she could tell, and she had no choice. With one last glance up into the rafters, she bent low, face close to Raoul's, and told him the truth.

"Yes, I am," she hissed. "Does that please you?"

To her surprise, Raoul did not react violently. He straightened and closed his eyes, sighing. "I suspected as much. Tell me, though, are you truly happy with him?"

Now Tori sighed, throwing her hands up into the air. She didn't care who was watching now, only that she would be able to get out of this mess alive and intact. Sensing the growing tension, more and more actors and actresses had turned their heads their way. "Yes, of course! I wouldn't have married him if I wasn't truly happy!"

Raoul's blue eyes snapped open to stare at her again, this time his stare full of pity. "...you seemed hesitant to tell me before...are you lying again!"

Tori's blood was simmering now, and she shot a glare at him. She didn't mean to be hostile towards him, but he wasn't getting the general idea; she had to force it onto him. "I beg of you, sir, I'm telling the truth!"

He stared at her for a while longer before finally turning and walking towards the managers, who gazed on open-mouthed at Tori's sudden temper flare. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, eyes darting around as she took in the scene that was before her. Many ballet rats were smirking at her, guessing what her answer to Raoul had been, while some stared sympathetically at her.

Quietly Meg approached her and touched her arm. Tori stared over at her, as if to say, _What is it now?_

"Tori, are you feeling quite alright?"

Tori withdrew her arm and used the hand attached to it to cover her eyes. "Y-yes. I'm simply a little shaken, is all."

Meg nodded comfortingly and waved Madame Giry over. They led her off the stage, leaving the rest of the actors to gossip amongst themselves.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Firmin called over the crowd. "Let's rehearse that scene one more time!"

-------------------------

After a few weeks, it was as if Tori and Erik had never gotten married and moved away at all. They went about their usual business amongst the Opera, Erik starting to go back to his ways of extracting money from the managers and frightening the cast and crew. (Much to all their disappointment.) Tori moved back to the ballet dorms, sleeping over in Erik's home only occasionally. Operas and rehearsals and mealtimes and evenings, they all passed, the days melting into months, then years...

Eventually Tori and Erik did move back to their original home, only if to give their oncoming family a better home than a damp cellar under the very surface of the Earth. The children grew up fast, went to school, graduated, moved away, some creating children of their own. Time passed so quickly that the couple could barely blink, so not to miss what was happening before them.

They told their children and grandchildren time and time again of what had happened to make them meet, and time and time again they were all fascinated by it. Tori always laughs when she tells it, while Erik almost moves himself to tears over his luckiness.

**End.**

-----------

**Yes, I know. It's uber short because the idea got very stale, very quickly, and the plot wasn't going anywhere, so I ended the fic fast because it was just hanging on the edge of my mind all the time. Thanks to the people who did read this, and yes, this is the end of the story, period. Here's a potato for staying faithful.**


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